


Princess

by KenyaKetchup (temptedmelibea)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Filicide, Gen, creep, implied frans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:03:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temptedmelibea/pseuds/KenyaKetchup
Summary: Somebody once asked me what would happen if Sans managed to get Frisk pregnant in Creep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am terribly sorry.

An unusual calm descended upon the house during the earliest hours of the morning. There was a child still sleeping in her bed, her tiny almost-human form snugly wrapped in a mess of warm blankets. They served as a layer to protect her from the cold morning air as she slept. And only her favoritest of stuffed animals were watching her.

 

Her father opened the door and went to her in the dark.

 

And if Sans had ever loved anything, he loved his little girl _so, so much_. He cautiously walked to her and sat by the edge of her bed, fishing through the blankets until he found his favorite gumdrop. Her dark brown hair poked out from the mess of blankets. And even now—even when she was still so small and tiny—she reminded him of Frisk back when he'd first met her, not that long ago.

 

His little girl was _so perfect_.

 

And " _princess_ ," he called her with a gentle tone, phalanges moving cautiously to stroke her hair. Painful warmth flooded within his Soul. And an almost unbearable affection pooled at the very pit of his stomach, painfully uncomfortable and growing sickeningly heavier as his little one stirred and woke up. The lights in his eye sockets faltered, but still Sans managed to whisper. "arial, sweetie. it's time wake up."

 

"Daddy?" her little voice was slurred by sleep. She stirred some more as Sans proceeded to gently smooth her wild bedhead, poking out in wild directions like his Frisk's so often did. Little hands moved to rub the sleep out of eyes so like her mother's. And then she took a very mature-sounding tone, slightly muddled by sleep. She tried to sound so polite and collected. Just like his kid had once been. "Daddy, good morning. Is it time to feed Roman?"

 

Even now, Sans couldn't help but to suppress a low chuckle, pride and nostalgia filling his chest as Arial played once again at the doting big sister. She was such a good girl. So good, like her mother. And he loved them both _so, so much_. Loved the three of them, his little family, more than the _world_.

 

"roman is sleeping." His voice carried a gentle tone. "he and mama will sleep today. we have the whole day to ourselves, arial."

 

"Oh, daddy... Really?" Arial sat up. And it was like she couldn't believe it. Then there re was a slight frown and the subtle downturn of her lips. "Is mommy feeling sad again?"

 

A pang in his chest.

 

"mommy isn't sad," he told her. "who told you that, arial?" _Did Frisk?_

 

"I can hear her cry sometimes." Her little hand moved to his, and he held it. "And she sleeps so much. I don't like it when mommy avoids us."

 

"princess... mommy doesn't avoid you, sweetie. she loves you very, _very_ much. just as much as i do."

 

She gave him a look, as if she were sharing a big secret.

 

_~~Just like Frisk, just then. Just like his kiddo. And his nonexistent heart melted all over again~~ _ _._

 

"I think that maybe you love me more."

 

_~~She was everything that he could ever possibly want. His second chance. And he would've fucking ruined it, ruined her, just like he'd done to Frisk~~_.

 

"mommy and daddy love you the same," he reassured her. He kissed the very top of her head. "but mommy needs to rest. she'll have a long night. and i really, _really_ want to spend the day with just you, princess."  


"Just you and me?" His princess _adored_ him.

 

"just us, kiddo. the whole day."

 

"Wowie, daddy!!" Her wide eyes shone as bright as stars. "What are we going to do?"

 

"whatever you want."

 

Little eyebrows rose with incredulity and he could practically _see_ the little wheels turning in her head. "I want to go to the zoo," she said, and something in the way she said that told him she was testing him. He knew very well that his kid thought she was bluffing. The zoo closest to them was a little over two hours away. He was no longer able to teleport them there. Sans used to take Arial there all the time. But lately, after Roman was born… With the baby still being so small and with Frisk…  and the last RESET…

 

Lately, Arial had been asking often to go... But Sans had to take care of Frisk and they needed to look after Roman and leaving the house, just the two of them, had been close to impossible.

 

"the zoo?" He couldn't help but smile at his little kiddo. "alright. get dressed, princess. we'll pick up breakfast on the way there."

 

Arial's eyes lit up and she gave an excited little scream. She struggled frantically to free herself from her small nest of bundled up blankets. And there was a gleam of excitement written _so visibly_ in her face that she even reminded Sans of Papyrus.

 

_(Or of Frisk, the few times early on when he'd done something right and been good to her. Little Frisk at age twelve, being promised a hike with him. Frisk at thirteen, so ready and eager to go to Hotland.)_

 

Arial got ready in a flash, struggling only slightly with buttoning her jeans. They passed the closed door to Roman's room as they made their way to the bathroom. Sans helped his kiddo portion the right amount of toothpaste. He brushed her hair and put it up in cute pigtails, just like his princess liked it.

 

When they finally left the house, it was five minutes to six A.M.

 

Sans hadn't slept a wink. He hadn't slept the entire night.

 

But his princess didn't need to know that.

 

 

 

It had been a long time since Sans had seen Arial this happy. He devoted his entire day to her, and they saw the otters and the lions and the wolves and the fish...

 

She got everything she could have possibly wanted. She didn't even have to ask. And he spoiled her rotten, just how he sometimes wished he could have done to Frisk. He fed her popcorn and cotton candy. Their lunch was her favorite soda and a little zoo’s worth of animal cookies.

 

He took her hand as they walked and her little hand held on to his so tight.

 

They stopped at a playground on the way back. And for dinner, they went to her favorite food chain place. She eagerly talked about all the animals they had seen. How much fun they had had. How great their day had been.

 

A painful knot formed in his chest as the sun slowly started to set.

 

And when they finally made it back to their home, Roman was still sleeping.

 

The door that led to the nursery was still closed. As was his own, the one that led to his and Frisk’s bedroom.

 

And he started wanting to delay Arial’s bedtime as much as possible. 

 

They watched tv together. He let Arial watch any show she wanted. And they ate her favorite snacks together. He told her he loved her, over and over. He _did_. She was his starshine.

 

But by the end of the day, no matter how much he tried to delay it, Arial got tired.

 

Her eyelids got heavy.

 

He took his time fixing her a bath with her favorite pink bath bubbles. Detangled her hair. Fixed it into two braids.

 

"You're the best, daddy." His soul sank.

 

His hands faltered.

 

They brushed their teeth, and after that was story time. He let her choose her favorite book: a story Sans had commissioned for her before the day she'd even been born. And it was the adventures of Princess Arial, travelling the galaxy. Learning about supernovas. Exploring black holes.

 

He'd loved her even before he knew that she would grow to existence. And the day he knew that they were waiting for her, for all the fear he'd felt for Frisk and the guilt that expanded as his seed grew in Frisk's belly, he'd also felt _so proud_.

 

So _hopeful_.

 

So _happy_.

 

But he would have only screwed this up.

 

He was a fuckup. A sadistic, real monster.

 

And so when he started, "once upon a time, there was a princess named arial. her mother and father loved her very, very much..."

 

And when he continued, and his little girl’s eyes started closing...

 

He felt like the weight of his loss would crush him. The heaviness pooled within his ribs, weighing him down and threatening to rip his very soul apart.

 

But he was— He was only going to have messed things up—

 

Arial existed only because he was a real monster.

 

When Arial fell asleep, he kissed her forehead. Smoothed her hair. Whispered he loved her.

 

Held his hand to her throat. Just like Roman.

 

(He was _so sorry_.)

 

She woke up as soon as he pressed down. Struggled weakly. He couldn’t bear look. And he **hated** the brief glimpse of sick satisfaction he felt. (He hated the proof. He was _the worst dad_. He was _sick, **sick**_ —He wouldn’t have been a good father for long.)

 

Arial stopped fighting.

 

Her little body went limp.

 

And it was better this way.

 

He tucked her back in. Closed her eyes, kissed her forehead. And when he slowly got up, he didn’t have Roman. He didn’t have Arial.

 

He’d never been meant to start a family with Frisk. Didn’t deserve it. Shouldn’t be trusted with it. Now he no longer had it.

 

He made his way back to Frisk. Still being held down. Maybe through tomorrow.

 

And just Frisk was enough.

 

 

 

 

 

_He found her crying and shaking, white stick in her hand. She had been bawling her eyes out. And her tears only got thicker when he saw her. Her voice faltered. “Sans…? I think I’m pregnant.”_

_Her voice carried anxiety and disbelief and dread._

 

_He tried to comfort her. “kiddo, that’s impossible.”_

_But she was._

_“…you are? sweetheart… frisky, that’s amazing.” (it’s mine, isn’t it? it has to be.)_

_And hope dawned in his chest. Disbelief leading the way to excitement. And he was so happy, but Frisk was so young—_

_“kiddo… don’t worry, sweetie. don’t cry. i’ll take care of us. shhh”_

_“kiddo, i love you so much. i love our baby already. i’ll make you happy. i’ll be a good dad. don’t cry, sweetie. please?”_

_“don’t cry, sweetheart. we’re starting a family.”_

_“i’m so happy i’m with you.”_

_“you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world.”_


	2. Alternative Happy-ish Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because people were sad. I hope you're all happy-ish now. >:/
> 
> (But also I admit writing Papa!Creep is fun.)

Sans woke up to a burst of blinding pain.

 

Nearly fell off of the rocking chair and dropped the baby. Held back the RESET through some sort of miracle, just long enough to gently put Roman on the floor. And then the full pain of the RESET along with the pain and the grief of the last timeline hit him. He collapsed on the floor. He woke up Roman. And he couldn't stop _crying_.

 

_He'd done it. He'd done it. He was a fuckup. His kiddos—_

 

He was gradually starting to wind down from the agony when he felt a hard slap to the face.

 

"…frisk?"

 

The kid looked _absolutely furious_. She was noticeably holding back on fighting him. She picked up Roman instead, started trying to soothe him. And the fiery Determination in her eyes was back at full force. She glared at him with piercing eyes, so like his starshine's.

 

_Arial—_

_Was she, too...?_

 

"Don't you _ever_ do that again." There was a fury in her voice that made him shrink back, made him collapse against the floor and feel like worse than nothing. " ** _Ever_**. Do you hear me? _Sans_ , if you do that again—"

 

"i won't," he heard himself saying, the significance of what had just happened and the enormity of what he had done hitting him all at once. "i won't, i— i don't know what came over me. i'm sorry, kiddo. i just... i was so worried i'd screw this up—"

 

"So you went and did _that? Sans, are you fucking kidding me!?_ "

 

Sans couldn't even begin to explain it. "i..."

 

"Mommy...?"

 

Sans stopped dead in his tracks. His little Arial stood by her doorway. And his Soul skipped a beat, regret and _immeasurable relief_ hitting at once.

 

"princess...?" And then, one look at Frisk. _can i...?_

 

The kid seemed no less furious at him as she stared him down from where he was groveling. She looked like she was still about ready to kill him. And yet, after a brief moment where Roman kept crying and clung even more to her, she found it in her to grant him a final Mercy and she gave him a stern " _We're talking later_."

 

It was all the permission Sans ever needed. He was up in a flash, practically ran towards his drowsy little kiddo. And "starshine, why are you up? did you have a nightmare?"

 

Arial gave her mother a slightly accusing look. "I heard mommy screaming at you."

 

"honey, we were just talking," he reassured her. He pulled her in a hug. He held her _so, so tight_. "don't worry, princess. we're okay. do you want me to read you another story?"

 

Her eyes lit up. Just like Frisk's once had, just for him. And she was _alive_ , and _breathing_ , and _perfect_. "Can you make one up instead? Like last time?" 

 

He tried wildly to remember what Arial was talking about. He'd put her to sleep, then went downstairs with a cranky Roman...

 

"Come on, daddy, please? Princess Arial was exploring Andremada!"

 

He had to smile at that. Bopped her nose with one finger. And "you mean andromeda, the galaxy closest to us? it's so full of stars, and satellites and planets... where would princess arial want to go?"

 

"She wants to find the brightest star!" she told him, excited grin and beaming up at him. Sans couldn't help but smile, too, and affection flooded his chest.

 

He looked back, and Frisk was still glaring at him...

 

They'd talk.

 

But for now, he took his little starshine's hand. He guided her to bed. Tucked her in and kissed the top of her head.

 

And "once upon a time, there was a brave and very determined explorer called princess arial..."

 

Frisk was very angry with him. He'd just done something that might prove unforgivable. But at least for now, in this timeline…

 

“her mother and father, the queen and king, loved each other…” _or at least, the king did…_

 

“and they loved their daughter very much.”


	3. Arial, six months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am complete trash. Stuck in Papa Creep Hell, now.

It was a little past noon; time for one of his mandatory breaks. Telecommuting was hard, after all—even for a lazy physicist. Not to mention, Arial had woken up extra early today. The two of them had already been awake for almost seven hours. And he’d accomplished quite a bit today, work-wise, with little Arial strapped to his chest. There were baby toys scattered everywhere, but he’d still sort of cleaned the house. He’d made two meals for Arial, plus snack.

They’d played peek-a-boo more times than he could count in between his many writings and rewritings of his old notes, because technical writing _sucked_ , even if he was getting paid a good amount for what to him was basically old research. This wasn’t the first time they had played, or the last, but Arial _still_ got overly happy and excited when Sans appeared from behind his hands, seemingly out of nowhere. (“I see you!”)

And he’d blown bubbles for her, for much longer than he’d originally intended. They’d watched baby videos together. They’d had tummy time. (Sans had fallen asleep).

Now, they were back to again practicing talking. Arial was _so close_ , at just six months old. He could practically _hear_ the words almost coming out of her mouth. His baby was _so smart_ , just like her mother. She would grow to be _so smart_ , and _so kind_ , so determined—

“arial, can you say ‘mama’?” His little gumdrop just stared intently at his mouth. It made Sans _really_ wish he had lips, just so he could set a better example for her.

“say ‘mama’, arial. say ‘mama’.”

Mama was asleep.

Arial cooed and blew him a couple of bubbly raspberries, but Sans wouldn’t give up. After all, maybe today was the day Sans could finally wake up Frisk to the sound of Arial calling her. His kid had been having a rough time... But maybe if Arial learned to talk, if ‘mama’ was her first word… Maybe Frisk would at least stop crying. She’d cheer up. And they _could_ be a family, once the baby was older and the kid learned how to deal with her. He would take care of them, in the meantime. He just needed—

“say ‘mama’, arial. ‘maaa-ma’.”

Arial moved her little hands to his teeth and giggled, forcing a low chuckle from Sans. He kissed the palm of her little hands with brief wisps of magic. That was something she wasn’t quite used to, yet. She squealed delightedly and began to lightly tap his mouth with her fingers.

He _loved_ this baby—

When door leading to their bedroom slowly opened, he almost didn’t catch it. And when Sans looked back and saw Frisk standing by the doorway, his Soul did a leap.

_Frisk…_

“h-hey, kiddo…” It was a little bit over half past-noon. The kid was depressed, and he wasn’t expecting her to be up so early.

Frisk took one look at him. Her body froze visibly.

He pretended not to notice her after that. Hugged Arial closer to him as Frisk slowly walked to the bathroom. And he hugged Arial tighter still, when the door closed. Hugged his baby as Frisk locked it. Hugged her when Frisk quietly began crying.

Sobs that increased in volume as the sound reverberated through their small apartment. It felt like his Soul had been ripped, had been taken out of him and crumpled into a tight ball before getting tossed back into the trash that was his chest. And _no matter what he did_ , _no matter how much he tried_ —

He made himself as small as he could as he hugged their child close to his chest. Arial made a happy noise. Her chubby little hand moved to his jaw, soft flesh and warm skin. Just like Frisk’s.

“arial…” He didn’t know what to even say.

“arial, mama loves you very much,” he reassured the small bundle of flesh on his lap. His little gumdrop, as cute as could be. And he hoped maybe the sound of his voice might drown out the sound of Frisk’s sobbing.

It broke his Soul. It broke his heart.

And it _hurt_.

He didn’t want Arial to feel unwanted. She was _so wanted_ , even before she’d existed. He loved her. And he knew that Frisk _could_ love her. Their baby was sweet, she was so cute. She was _perfect_.

“mama and papa love you. we love you _so_ much, arial. i love you. your mommy loves you.”

_you’re wanted._

Arial blew another raspberry before smiling _so broadly_ at him. It broke his resolve. And he thought maybe he _could_ be a bit selfish, just this once. Just maybe this once.

He knew that Frisk needed this, but just— His Soul felt _so heavy_.

“arial…” he whispered, trying to focus on the sounds his baby was making and not on ~~his other kid~~ , currently in the bathroom, bawling her heart out again. “sweetie… can you say… ‘papa’?”

He was ashamed.

He didn’t deserve this.

But—

“say ‘papa’, arial. say ‘pa pa’.”


	4. Arial, 1 year old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a tiny bit of Frans.

 He teleported back to the house as quickly as he could, carrying his purchase: A tiny pink comb and a pretty, soft brush and yet another stuffed animal that he couldn’t help but get for little Arial’s growing collection.

He quickly scanned the room littered with toys and found Arial still standing by her play table, completely engrossed. Hadn’t even noticed he’d been gone. None of the tears she usually cried whenever he left the house for even a minute.

Teleportation was proving to be his handiest parenting trick.

He moved to sit by the play table next to Arial and gave her messy hair a quick kiss. His gumdrop’s hair was getting long. The hair on her head… grew? Sans still wasn’t used to it. It was weird, how it did that.

Frisk had always just kept it mostly short.

And now he guessed taking care of his daughter’s hair was yet another thing he’d have to get used to. As unfamiliar as he was with human hair and its growth, though… He was even more clueless about how to take care of it. He’d been washing her hair with soap, up until now, but now that she was almost two years old… Arial’s hair was getting too long. And messy. And Sans supposed he just had to figure this out.

He was her father. He was a _physicist_. He’d bought, uh… A hair brush… (At the store with the clerk too shy or polite to say anything but who _definitely_ stared just a little too long at his skull.)

He could _do_ this.

He had the tools necessary, probably: A tiny comb and brush, baby-sized. “c’mon, sweetie,” and he picked her up. He gave Arial her bath first. He definitely _wasn’t_ delaying.

When he sat down with Arial, post-bath, she smelled like baby and her strawberry-scented soap. Sans settled her down on his lap with his phone to play with. He gave her one more kiss on her now damp but quickly drying hair.

“i’ve never done this before, starshine,” he told her. Arial was completely oblivious to him, too busy turning the phone display off then on, off then on. “you’ll have to be patient with papa.”

“Monkey,” his gumdrop said. And she had been talking for months, yet his Soul still burst with pride and with joy whenever she uttered a word.

“you want five little monkeys, sweet pea? that is so smart of you to ask. you are _so smart_ ,” he told her, hugging her close to him as he reached in front of his baby to fumble with the phone. He found the video then played it. His princess made a happy, ecstatic sound. And,

“Monkey!!” she shrieked happily.

“ _five_ little monkeys,” Sans told her. “jumping on the bed.”

The tune started, and Sans knew by now that this gave him about three minutes. He picked up the brush.

This couldn’t be too bad. Probably. He had achieved more difficult stuff.  Had taught Arial to talk and walk. This couldn’t be that hard.

This brush would probably soften her human hair and get it ready for combing through. The bristles were pretty soft and pliable.

He carefully brushed through all of Arial’s knotted hair. Acted like he knew what he was doing. And his fake confidence rewarded him: Brushing happened without a single hitch. Little Arial squealed and giggled every time a monkey fell off the bed.

Hmm. Maybe they could reenact the song together, as a new game. She had a few monkey toys…

(It would help to teach Arial arithmatic, too. Always a plus. She was such a smart kiddo, as bright as her mom. And Frisk never liked math very much, but maybe Arial could—)

“More,” Arial said, before her little fingers touched the replay icon. It still impressed Sans that she could do that. And only a year ago, she wouldn’t have even been able to hold his phone in her chubby hands.

The song started again. He had another three minutes. And the brush part was probably done. He grabbed the hair comb. Moved it to her head.

“NO!!!” Arial screeched as soon as the pink comb touched her hair and Sans tried to comb it. Her tiny hands dropped the phone and reached towards her hair with obvious desperation.

Sans freaked the hell out. “starshine, i’m just trying to—”

“NO! NO! NO!! NO!!!” Screaming followed by desperate crying. Sans’ figurative heart tied itself in a knot, anxiousness and desperation as he frantically tried to move the comb away. He found to his horror that the comb was stuck.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!” Screams and her little hands on the comb and she tried to violently yank it off. It only caused Arial more pain, more screams, more desperate attempts at removing the comb that was hurting herself. Fat tears ran down her face. Sans felt like he would dust from just watching her—

“sweetie, no, no—” _His princess. His gumdrop_. _No, no, no_ — _He hadn’t meant_ —

_~~ He was a terrible dad. He was a terrible father. He was the worst, fuck, what the fuck made him think— ~~ _

“ _What are you **doing**!?_ ”

He barely even heard Frisk over the sound of their daughter screaming before his kid rushed in and took Arial away from him. She hugged the baby tight and away from Sans, began to immediately check on her. And Sans knew, in that moment, just what Frisk had thought.

(He was a _dangerous_ monster. Was heartless. The worst. And just judging from what he’d done to Frisk, his princess would never be safe with him.)

Frisk tried her best to calm Arial down and Sans said nothing. Focused his attention and guilt away from them and to the phone and the hair brush scattered in front of him, just by his kid’s feet. And what had he even been _thinking_ , assuming he could take care of Arial. He’d failed Frisk. He’d fail their baby just the same.

He couldn’t even brush her hair right.

“sorry,” he mumbled, trying to make himself look unthreatening and harmless, and he was painfully aware not for the first time of just how often he’d said sorry to Frisk. “sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt her. i promise, kiddo—”

Frisk gave him an angry, dismissive gesture. Focused her attention solely on Arial. And Sans could see her eyes, quickly scanning her little body looking for marks. He felt the implicit accusation and shrunk. And this wasn’t how he’d imagined their first time as the three of them, without him having to tell Frisk just what to do or have to talk her into holding Arial.

The seconds that passed felt like hours. And he just wanted to crawl somewhere and hide both his sin and the guilt that coated his bones just as badly as the congealing blood he’d had over him, _timeline_ after _timeline_ after _timeline_ and—

“Did you… Did you try to comb her hair?” Frisk asked, her voice slowly fading back to her more usual quiet demeanor. There were still hints of anger in her, steadily morphing into remorse. And Arial was fine. She was mostly done sobbing, now. And Frisk had finally found the comb stuck to little Arial’s hair.

Sans looked at Frisk.

She looked just as pretty as she always did, even more so now that she was holding their daughter.

And she looked just as tired, just as miserable, as the life he could provide with him made her. Sans couldn’t for the life of him remember when the last time he’d convinced her to eat was. She looked thinner.

Toriel would be so disappointed in him.

“i tried,” he admitted. And he might as well recognize he was a failure now, both to Frisk and their family. “her hair was getting too long, and i didn’t want to bother you, so…”

He didn’t know why the smile slowly spread across her lips as it did. For a second, her eyes were brighter.

She looked almost as if she were about to cry and then she _laughed_.

“ _Sans…_ ” she chuckled, trying and failing not to find whatever it was that she was laughing at funny yet obviously failing. Her laugh sounded _so real_ that it did a number on Sans and his Soul _soared_. “ _Sans_ , oh my god… You tried to do that with _this_? This is a _toy_ comb! _Hahaha!_

“This is meant for _dolls!_ Where did you _get_ this?”

He might have felt embarrassment had Frisk not looked so unequivocally cheerful. As it was, Frisk was _laughing_. And because she was laughing, he didn’t care. “it was in the kid’s section at the pharmacy.”

“The _toy_ section!? Oh my god!” She laughed so much that it was contagious. Sans gave a hesitant chuckle. Frisk looked happy.

Arial started fussing. She pushed her mom away, twisted her body so she could stretch her little arms toward Sans and plead. “Papa!”

Frisk stopped laughing as much.

“Here,” she told him, and she gave Arial back. Sans hugged Arial tight, and his gumdrop hugged back. “I’ll… Um. I’ll be right back.”

Frisk disappeared, and Sans tried to keep Arial’s focus away from the comb stuck in her hair as he wondered what to do about it. He’d have to cut a good chunk of her hair, or probably all of it. He hoped Arial wouldn’t hate a haircut. He was afraid enough of moving a pair of scissors too close to her little face.

When Frisk came back, though, she brought back her own supplies: A bigger brush and a bigger comb, and a bottle of something.

“This is called detangler,” she told Sans, showing him the bottle. “You spray it on hair, like this—”

“ _Papa!_ ” Arial whined, and she tried to move away and hid her face against Sans’ chest.

“mama’s helping, sweetie,” he reassured her.

Frisk quickly coated Arial’s hair with detangler. Then, more carefully, she started to work on removing the comb. Arial fussed, whined and cried. Sans soothed her.

“ _shhhh_.”

It was done within a few minutes, and Frisk succeeded in removing the comb without much of an incident.

“Detangler helps with the knots,” Frisk explained to Sans. “Then I just comb my hair… Gently, with a wide-tooth comb like this one.”

She began trying to show Sans but Arial got hysterical. She moved away from Frisk, and Frisk started to look less sure of herself and then Frisk gave up. “I can’t.”

Sans grabbed the comb from her. “let me try.”

He started to comb through Arial’s hair very gently. The little girl fussed significantly less. The detangler _did_ work. Sans would have to borrow it next time.

“You’re a way better parent than I am,” Frisk pointed out. And to Sans, that didn’t sound at all reassuring. The kid just sounded sad. And there was guilt in her voice, along with a brief hint of jealousy.

He felt a brief worry that Frisk might be feeling jealous of Arial before suppressing it. She wasn’t _his_ kid.

“kiddo. i’m not. you’re… you’ll be a good mom, frisk. is that what you’re worried about?”

She shrugged.

“you just still have to figurethings out,” Sans reassured her. “you’re just… you’re still a kid, sweetheart.”

He immediately shut himself up. She was 16. And he **shouldn’t** have brought that up.

Frisk took a deep breath. For a moment, he was sure he was about to be told off with some snarky reply. But instead, the kid sighed. And she said, “I don’t think I can be a good _anything_.”

“frisky, of course you can.” He wanted to pull her to him and hug her. “you’re my _great_ _everything_. look at what you made, look at arial. you just need time, sweetie. i can—”

“Monkey!” Arial suddenly shrieked, interrupting him as she tried to get to her dad’s phone on the floor despite Sans’ arm wrapped around her.

Sans used his magic to move the phone towards her. Arial shrieked this time with delight before collapsing into a fit of giggles. She _loved_ his magic. And affection rushed through his chest. He felt a glimmer of pride at being able to delight his chubby little gumdrop.

“What’s ‘monkey’?” Frisk quietly asked, looking every bit as confused as she felt.

“five little monkeys,” Sans explained. He looked for the video as she told Frisk more about it. “arial _loves_ it. we watch it every day.”

“I don’t watch it,” Frisk pointed out. And her carried a certain weight, like she was executing a heavy accusation against herself.

“sweetheart… you don’t have to,” Sans told her. He once again found the video and this time lowered the volume before it played. Picked up the comb again and went back to brushing Arial’s hair. Itwas so much easier now, with the detangler, thanks to Frisk. He would be done in no time. “i can take care of us, frisk. you need your time. i know you’re—i know you’re sad, kiddo. i...”

_i took a lot from you._

He didn’t exactly dare to admit that just now.

When he finished detangling Arial’s hair, it looked so much nicer. Sans wished he could maybe summon up a bow from one of the many she had scattered everywhere. But Frisk was here, and he knew she liked his magic significantly less than Arial.

She was afraid of it. She had every reason to.

Still, after the song played, he saw his Frisk very hesitantly sitting down close to them. She looked at the small screen of his phone as the song ended, and to her amazement—and Sans’ pride—the way little Arial quickly replayed the video.

“Wow,” Frisk whispered. And she didn’t know until now Arial could do that.

Her hand was close to Sans’. He wanted to reach for it, hold it in his. And he held back.

Held Arial just a bit tighter.

And just having Frisk near was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop.


End file.
